Chapter 17: The Twins Approach
POV: Geralt
The Frey banners hanging from the Twins' towers looked like funeral shrouds in the morning mist, their blue and grey colors dulled by distance and the weight of approaching betrayal. From my position among the servant wagons trailing Robb Stark's army, I had a perfect view of the castle that would become a tomb for the Young Wolf and his closest allies.
"Two days until the wedding," I thought, my hands gripping the wagon's rail with white-knuckle intensity. "Two days to save as many people as possible from a massacre I can't prevent."
[Red Wedding Countdown: 47 hours, 23 minutes]
[Current Position: 3.2 miles from Twins approach]
[Infiltration Window: Closing rapidly]
[Sabotage Completion: 67% - Critical items remaining]
[Survival Probability Analysis: Updating constantly]
The Northern army stretched along the river road like a steel serpent, twenty thousand men marching toward what they believed would be a celebration of renewed alliance. Banners snapped in the wind—the dire wolf of Stark, the trout of Tully, the tree of House Blackwood, dozens of other houses that had sworn themselves to the Young Wolf's cause.
Most of their bearers would be dead within the week.
I'd spent the last ten days infiltrating the advance teams, establishing myself as one of the servants hired to supplement the Twins' household staff for the wedding festivities. The story was perfect—an experienced worker from Harrenhal, displaced by the war, seeking temporary employment with one of the few houses still wealthy enough to afford lavish celebrations.
Lord Walder Frey's steward had hired me without question. After all, what possible threat could one more servant pose?
[Cover Identity: Catering staff supplement]
[Access Level: Full castle service areas]
[Suspicious Activity: Zero detection probability]
[Strategic Position: Optimal for sabotage deployment]
The servant caravan peeled away from the main army as we approached the Twins, heading for the smaller gate that led to the service areas. Around me, genuine servants chattered nervously about the upcoming celebration—their excitement tinged with the kind of anxiety that came from working for the Freys.
"Never seen the old lord so pleased about anything," one woman was saying. "Been smiling for days, ever since word came that the Young Wolf would attend."
"Aye," replied another. "Though I heard tell he's been meeting with strange visitors. Men from the south, wearing colors I don't recognize."
"Bolton's people. And probably Lannister agents." The conspiracy was larger than most people realized, involving multiple houses and careful coordination across hundreds of miles.
But conspiracies had weaknesses, and the larger they grew, the more vulnerable they became to precisely targeted sabotage.
[Conspiracy Assessment: Multi-house collaboration confirmed]
[Coordination Points: Communications, timing, signal protocols]
[Vulnerability Analysis: Music cues, door controls, escape prevention]
[Sabotage Priority: Disruption of execution methodology]
The Twins were exactly as imposing as I'd expected—two massive castles connected by a stone bridge, controlling the crossing of the Green Fork with architectural authority that had endured for six hundred years. The eastern castle housed the Frey family and their most important guests, while the western castle contained the great hall where the wedding feast would take place.
And where the slaughter would begin.
I was assigned to the eastern castle's kitchens, where the controlled chaos of wedding preparation provided perfect cover for the kind of work I needed to do. Dozens of servants scurried back and forth, preparing elaborate dishes for guests who would never live to finish eating them.
"You'll be serving wine at the high table," the head cook informed me. "Lord Frey wants his best people visible during the ceremony. Keep the cups full, stay invisible, and don't speak unless spoken to."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied, already calculating the opportunities that position would provide.
[Assignment: High table wine service]
[Access: Direct proximity to primary targets]
[Intervention Opportunity: Maximum effectiveness potential]
[Cover Maintenance: Critical visibility management]
My first priority was mapping every exit route in both castles, identifying the passages that terrified wedding guests would need if they hoped to escape the slaughter. The Twins were a maze of corridors and staircases, designed more for defense than convenience, but there were ways out for those who knew where to look.
I spent hours moving through service areas with the focused intensity of someone memorizing a battlefield. Every door that could be barred, every passage that could be blocked, every route that led to safety or death.
Most importantly, I identified the doors that would be sealed to prevent escape—and began the delicate work of ensuring they would fail at crucial moments.
[Escape Route Analysis: Complete]
[Primary Exits: 7 passages identified as critical]
[Lock Sabotage: Iron pins weakened, hinges loosened]
[Emergency Protocols: Hidden tools placed near blocked routes]
The second priority was disrupting the musical cues that would signal the beginning of the massacre.
"The Rains of Castamere" would be the song that triggered the killing, its opening notes serving as the signal for Frey soldiers to draw their weapons and begin the butchery. But musical performances required instruments in perfect working order, and instruments were surprisingly fragile when subjected to the right kind of sabotage.
I found the musicians practicing in the western castle's lower hall, running through their repertoire with the kind of nervous energy that marked performers preparing for an important audience. Their instruments were arranged along the walls—lutes, drums, horns, and a harp that would provide the melody for Tywin's signature song.
"Sorry, friends," I thought, approaching the instrument rack with a collection of small tools. "But tonight's performance is going to be memorably awful."
[Musical Sabotage: Phase One Initiated]
[Target: Instrumental reliability during signal performance]
[Method: Subtle structural weakening, tuning disruption]
[Effect: Audio delay, key failure, tempo disruption]
The modifications were surgical in their precision. Lute strings weakened to break under normal playing tension. Drum heads punctured with tiny holes that would expand under pressure. Horn valves loosened to produce wrong notes at crucial moments.
But the masterpiece was the harp.
I inserted thin metal shavings between the strings and their tension pegs, creating micro-fractures that would cause multiple strings to snap when the musician attempted to play the opening chords of "The Rains of Castamere." The resulting cacophony would be audible throughout the hall, destroying any possibility of using the song as a subtle signal.
[Musical Sabotage: Advanced Instrument Failure Protocols]
[Harp Status: Critical failure programmed for specific song]
[Timing: Coordinated instrument breakdown during signal attempt]
[Result: Communication disruption, confusion among conspirators]
The third priority was the most dangerous—ensuring that Grey Wind, Robb's direwolf, would have the best possible chance of survival and escape.
The kennels where the direwolf would be housed were located in the eastern castle's lower levels, designed to contain hunting hounds and war dogs. Strong enough to hold normal animals, but Grey Wind was far from normal—he was larger, smarter, and more dangerous than any creature the Freys had ever tried to contain.
I spent an hour examining the kennel structure, identifying the weak points that could be exploited by a desperate animal with supernatural strength and intelligence. The door hinges were solid but could be loosened. The lock was sturdy but relied on a mechanism that could be jammed in the open position. The walls were stone, but the mortar between certain blocks was old and crumbling.
[Grey Wind Liberation: Preparation Phase]
[Kennel Structural Analysis: Vulnerability assessment complete]
[Escape Enhancement: Lock mechanisms compromised]
[Scent Trail Guidance: Safe routes marked with scent markers]
I weakened the door hinges with carefully applied acid, creating fractures that would give way under pressure from a large animal. The lock received similar treatment—internal mechanisms filed to catch and hold in the open position when sufficient force was applied.
But the real innovation was the scent trail.
Using herbs and oils that would be familiar to a direwolf's enhanced senses, I marked a path from the kennels to the safest exit route from the castle. Not obvious to human perception, but clear as a painted line to an animal that navigated by smell as much as sight.
Grey Wind would know which way to run when the killing started.
[Scent Trail Navigation: Optimal escape route marked]
[Herbal Markers: Familiar pack scents deployed]
[Exit Strategy: Clear path to river ford, wilderness safety]
[Survival Probability: Significantly enhanced]
My final preparation was the most audacious—poisoning the wine stores with powerful but non-lethal laxatives.
The Freys were planning to celebrate their victory with wine and song after the massacre, toasting their success while the bodies of their guests cooled in the great hall. But digestive catastrophe would transform their celebration into chaos, providing additional confusion and distraction for any survivors trying to escape.
I selected the wine barrels designated for Frey consumption, carefully introducing measured doses of herbs that would produce violent but temporary intestinal distress. Enough to incapacitate, not enough to kill—I wasn't trying to murder innocent servants, just create maximum inconvenience for the conspirators.
[Auxiliary Sabotage: Enemy celebration disruption]
[Method: Laxative contamination of Frey wine supplies]
[Effect: Post-massacre chaos, reduced pursuit capability]
[Timing: 2-3 hours after consumption for maximum impact]
[Collateral Damage: Minimal - temporary discomfort only]
That evening, as the Twins settled into the tense quiet that preceded great events, I made my final preparations in the small chamber I'd been assigned among the servant quarters. The Red Wedding was less than thirty-six hours away, and I'd done everything possible to improve the survival odds for the people who mattered most.
But as I settled onto my straw pallet, the system's notification appeared with the kind of cheerful inevitability that made my stomach clench.
[Red Wedding Countdown: 35 hours, 47 minutes]
[Sabotage Completion: 89% - All critical systems compromised]
[Survival Probability Analysis: Updating based on preparation]
[Catelyn Stark: 23% (Enhanced from 0%)]
[Grey Wind: 67% (Enhanced from 12%)]
[Northern Lords: 34% (Enhanced from 8%)]
[Mission Parameters: Damage mitigation optimized]
"Twenty-three percent for Catelyn. Better than nothing, but not nearly good enough."
The numbers were brutal reminders that I was fighting against a fixed point in time, trying to save people from a tragedy that the universe itself seemed determined to orchestrate. But every percentage point mattered, every small advantage could mean the difference between life and death.
Through my small window, I could see the Northern army making camp along the river, their cook fires twinkling like stars in the darkness. Somewhere among those lights, Robb Stark was planning tomorrow's ceremony, believing he was securing peace with the Freys through his uncle's marriage.
Instead, he was walking into the most devastating trap in the history of the Seven Kingdoms.
[Final Preparation Phase: Complete]
[All Sabotage Systems: Armed and ready for deployment]
[Personal Readiness: Maximum alertness protocols engaged]
[Mission Objective: Preserve as many lives as possible]
[Constraint: Timeline integrity must be maintained]
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, knowing that tomorrow would bring one of the longest days of my life. The Red Wedding was coming, and I couldn't stop it.
But I'd given the right people the best possible chance of surviving it.
In a world where honor was rewarded with death and loyalty was met with betrayal, sometimes that was the only victory available.
[Sleep Mode: Activated]
[Wake Protocol: 6 hours before ceremony]
[Status: Ready for Red Wedding intervention]
[Final Thought: Let the games begin]
Winter was coming for everyone, but especially for the wolves who'd trusted too much and loved too well.
Time to see who would survive to howl another day.
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